


Sworn to None

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jaime arrives at Winterfell, Post Season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 16:38:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: Jaime has arrived at Winterfell alone, vulnerable and virtually friendless. Queen Daenerys and the Starks are uncertain as to whether or not they should welcome him into their service.Yet Ser Jaime has no intention of entering their service regardless.





	Sworn to None

“You are here,” Queen Daenerys announced solemnly, looking down with curdling dislike at the ragged man standing before her, “To pledge yourself in service to me.”

The hall was hot, the stench of sweat and heat wafting from hundreds of bodies clogging the nostrils of all within. Smallfolk, soldier and Lordling stood packed together, shoulder to shoulder as each shifted on their toes to get a sight of the Kingslayer. The Sister-fucker. The Lion of Lannister brought low. Queen Daenerys sat alongside King Jon and his family, all but one of them well aware that with a single word they could see the man torn to piece by the crowd and each one very tempted to see that brought about.

“No,” Jaime Lannister said simply, “I am not.”

Whispers of the bristling crowds rose to a grumble.

“Our family then?” Sansa Stark demanded. “To King Jon, myself, my sister and my brother. The boy _you_ crippled.”

“No,” Jaime replied mildly. “Not them either.”

“The what is your business here?” King Jon thundered.

“Same as anyone else,” Jaime explained, “To fight the White Walkers and keep this land from becoming a land of the dead.” He smiled wryly at Tyrion. “Well Brother. These Starks and Targaryens seem to believe that _they_ are the reason I have travelled to this Godforsaken land. And they call us, the Lannisters arrogant.”

Tyrion grimaced. “Indeed, they do, Brother. Yet considering how we are now currently surrounded by those loyal to them, dismissing the notion with such scorn is perhaps not the most advisable course of action.”

“Why not?” Jaime asked. “I thought these Northmen valued honesty above all else. Or is that only when it does not mean sacrificing their own ego?”

“Jaime,” Tyrion pleaded hoarsely, “For the love of the Seven don’t provoke them.”

“Not for the love of the Seven,” Jaime replied, but closed his mouth nonetheless.

“If you are not intending to pledge yourself to our Houses, then how can we trust you?” King Jon asked.

“Your Grace,” Lord Tyrion began to say, “I truly believe that my brother-“

“And how can we trust you, my Lord Tyrion?” Sansa snapped, “When it is your on brother of whom we speak?”

“May I speak for him?” Lady Brienne spoke, a waver of rogue uncertainty in her voice.

Jaime twisted round to see her broad, furred figure emerge from the crowd. Her blue eyes flickered towards him, then back to their Graces.

Queen Daenerys nodded. “You may,” she said graciously.

Brienne clenched then unclenched her hands, palms clammy with cold sweat.

“I-I have travelled. With Ser Jaime.” Brienne choked out. She swallowed, her mouth dry and voice hoarse. “I was with him when he lost his hand. I truly believe I have seen him at his worst and at his best, and I think you can trust him.” Sansa raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

Brienne coolly fixed her gaze onto Sansa. “I know,” she amended.

“Then pledge your life,” the Dragon Queen commanded. “Offer up your hand and swear on your blood that the Kingslayer will keep faith.”

“No!”

All heads swivelled towards the ashen faced Lannister. Queen Daenerys and the Starks on their high table pursed their lips and bloody words filled the hall. Jaime only looked upon Brienne. Brienne’s left hand was already out, a dagger poised in the other, and only Jaime’s words could have stalled her.

“I won’t let you do that.” Jaime swallowed.

Bitter triumph twisted Jon Snow’s lips. “So, it seems Lady Brienne has misjudged you. Why else would you protest if you do not intend to turn traitor.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. “I have no more intention of turning traitor for you than I did for Aerys Targaryen. When I took the White Cloak, I did so with the good intentions of Arthur Dayne himself! Then I saw exactly what keeping faith to the Mad King meant. For the realm, for the innocents suffering on his orders and for myself.” Jaime closed his eyes and smiled grudgingly. “And I have no more intention to turn traitor on you than I did turning traitor on my sister. And yet here I am.”

“The why do you refuse Lady Brienne’s offer to pledge?” Sansa Stark demanded.

“Because I don’t know any of you,” Jaime scoffed. “What reason do I have to think better of you than any of the others I have sworn my sword to? You are strangers to me and I have no cause to trust you more than you do me. I have spent the best part of my life standing by and offering my blade to monsters because of _family_ or _honour.”_  He spat. “I won’t do so again. Not for a Stark or Targaryen of anyone else.” Jaime turned towards Brienne. “And I _cannot_ hold myself to that if your life is on the line.”

The hand holding her dagger dropped and Brienne watched as Jaime’s eyes widened as though he had just spilt some great secret. Cold horror trickled through both their veins as they remembered the crowd gawking at them, watching them dangle on the precipice of things and feelings that _must not be talked of._

Jaime swallowed to speak once more, his apple’s Adam’s bobbing up and down.

“Because you are a good person.” Jaime clarified weakly. “And I respect you.”

Brienne nodded, white-faced and bug eyed. “Of course.”

The crowd watched this strange, mismatched pair. The honourable beast and honourless half-god, staring at each other as though breaking their gaze would cut their strings and send them collapsing to the ground like puppets. Jon exchanged swift glances with Lady Arya and Queen Daenerys, whilst Lady Sansa stiffened in her seat and clenched her jaw. Throughout the hall there were murmurs and mumbles and snickers, and one or two young serving maids were melting within.

Tyrion frowned pensively at his big brother, and how he stared at the woman with something he had never seen on Jaime’s face before.

Brienne lifted the dagger once more.

“Your Grace, your Grace,” she addresses Queen Daenerys and King Jon in turn. “I pledge my life that Ser Jaime will loyally serve the realm, and never stray from his duty to defending the people from the threat that approaches us now.”

She slid the knife across her palm, barely wincing at the sweet sting. Ignoring the crowds Jaime strode towards her and took the blade from her grip. Podrick stumbled towards them and patted his pockets, looking for something to bandage up his lady’s hand. Jaime shook his head at the boy.

“Here,” he muttered, stemming the swelling blood with the hem of his cloak.

“My thanks,” she whispered back, pink splodges painting her white cheeks and eyes on the ground.

“I told you not to pledge for me,” he said, breathe hot against her skin.

“You told me to not pledge for you on a vow you cannot be sure of keeping,” she corrected him. “So I pledged for you on a vow that I think you will.”

“You think?” Jaime smiled, eyebrow quirked.

Brienne smiled back, finally meeting his eyes. “I know,” she corrected herself, raising her voice.” I know.”


End file.
